


Fall, like rain

by Elske



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: A love Story, After the Fall, Angst, Crowley was an angel first, M/M, before the fall - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-16
Updated: 2019-07-16
Packaged: 2020-06-29 19:03:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19836589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elske/pseuds/Elske
Summary: Crowley was an angel first; he’s loved Aziraphale since the Beginning of all things (and sometimes it’s love that makes you question everything)





	Fall, like rain

**Author's Note:**

> “We’re afraid in that case you’ll have a Fall.  
> We’ve been watching you over the garden wall  
> For hours.  
> The sky is darkening like a stain,  
> something is going to fall like rain  
> And it won’t be flowers.”  
> —W.H. Auden, from The Dog Beneath the Skin

Heaven is different at the beginning; the light is warmer and the edges are softer and everything stretches out to infinity. Crowley has been there, he thinks, since the beginning. 

Aziraphale is newer, and Crowley is pretty sure that every newly created angel is an improvement on the last. Somehow, Crowley finds himself Blessed with Aziraphale’s attention; he’s followed around by this newest angel, such a marvelous being, one who spills out enthusiasm and light and love from every pore of his being. He watches, enraptured, as Crowley creates wonders from stardust. His eyes shine and his nose wrinkles when he smiles and he’s the most wonderful thing Crowley has ever known. This is love, but it’s stronger and stranger and a little bit terrifying.

They invent kissing in heaven. They laugh and they kiss and they love and Crowley has never loved anything more than the way Aziraphale looks, spread out under him on the green lawn in the garden where all things will eventually be planted. They invent sex in Eden, not the same way humans will someday, but some things are held in common: touching and kissing and moving together until something of their souls mingle and they’re both collapsing from the bliss of it, shadowed by the great arcs of their wings.

It isn’t right. Crowley starts to hide from Her, starts to close his heart from Her, and it’s the beginning of the end, and he falls and falls and Falls.

And Aziraphale doesn’t even have a moment to mourn because when the flaming sword is placed in his beautiful hands, he is reborn into the Principality of the Eastern Gate, filled up with nothing but God’s Love and the immediacy of his purpose, no room for memories left in his soul. And he’s strong about it, until his feet again touch impossible grass in the middle of a void, and there’s a crack in his new brain, his new essence. It’s just a crack, a tiny fissure, not enough to remember anything (not enough to remember the golden eyes of the serpent at his feet). But it’s enough. It’s enough to open his heart beyond caring for Her; it’s enough to feel for the fragility of the newly created humans, it’s enough to cast off the sword that seared his soul into conformity.

(“You what?” says Crowley, who remembers everything, and suddenly the whole of his being is suffused with something like hope and something like love and time stretches out before them with something like possibility.)

**Author's Note:**

> My best friend and I were writing sad Crowley in heaven headcanons and this accidentally happened. She told me I needed to post it? So here it is.


End file.
